


Sweet Blood, Poisoned Ink, Bitter Tears

by feeling_diom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Be Careful What You Wish For, Brainwashing, Dark Ginny Weasley, Deviates From Canon, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fucked Up, Going to Hell, Hurts So Good, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I forgot the book canon so sorry, I'm Sorry, ITS TOM THE FUCK DID YOU EXPECT, Manipulative Tom Riddle, Oh wait, POV Ginny Weasley, Physical Abuse, Possessive Tom Riddle, Psychological Trauma, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, So Wrong It's Right, Sorry Not Sorry, Stockholm Syndrome, Teenage Tom Riddle, The Author Regrets Nothing, Timeline What Timeline, Unhealthy Relationships, Unresolved Emotional Tension, enjoy you bastards, ginny is a sweetheart, he thinks its love but at the same time wouldn't hesitate to throw her to a giant snake, i am god, i had a horrible idea, i mean its a line between stockholm and brainwashing, its tom what did you expect this to be fluffy, maybe some stockholm syndrome?, might have some underage since they are underage, psycho Tom, really im just gonna like go for the ride and do whatever because i can, running out of tags, seriously i have an angst addiction, she's only 11 what the fuck this poor child tom why such a prick, someone get this poor child a blanket and chocolate, sorta - Freeform, the fluff is a lie, this escalates quickly, this poor child is just being used, tom gets obsessed because i like that sick shit, tom is a bitch, toxic ship, we're all sinners here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2019-11-16 08:15:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feeling_diom/pseuds/feeling_diom
Summary: A Ginny-Centralized POV of her emotional confusion during her first year at Hogwarts while being slowly entranced by the not-so stranger that lives in her diary. I know it's messed up, but hey, i had the idea, so i wrote it. Enjoy.





	1. Chapter 1

It hadn’t taken long at all for Ginny to become lonely in the great halls of Hogwarts. It wasn’t the type of lonely experienced when there weren’t others around to call friends- Ginny had a handful of people she considered close, and that she deeply cared for.

Ginny was lonely in the sense that she felt everything was superficial. She was just another Weasley child, another name for the teachers to stumble over when they saw the signature red hair. How many times had she almost been called Fred or George or Ron? How many times had she just been barely acknowledged as a person because she only existed in her brother’s shadows? She tried to pretend she didn’t care, but as the days progressed at the school she began to realize that there wasn’t anything special waiting here for her. Percy was a prefect, and a good one at that. Fred and George were the tricksters, and Ron was best friends with the Boy Who Lived. Nothing was special about her, except that she was a girl. 

It was dark by now, and most of the Gryffindor common room was asleep. Ginny tossed and turned under the covers, but her frustration and restlessness in her heart kept her mind racing. Why did she have to be the youngest? Why couldn’t  _ she  _ have a defining trait, like her brothers, that set her apart from the rest? Why? 

Her eyes darted to her nightstand, where the slender book she discovered in her cauldron still lay. A cursory glance when school began showed it was a diary, but she quickly dismissed it as an accidental misplacement, and did her best to ignore it. Though now, when everything was quiet except her mind, she sighed and slid out of bed. Taking a candle and migrating away from the dormitory, Ginny lit the wick to examine the book once more. 

It was a simple thing, with yellowed pages and a sleek black leather-bound cover. Inside was written in elegant handwriting the name  _ Tom Riddle.  _ Ginny could tell right away it was old. She almost felt guilty- this was clearly another person’s property, and she shouldn’t just  _ taint _ it. The thought darted across her mind that maybe she was  _ meant  _ to find this in her cauldron- but she quickly dismissed it. She was nobody special, and if anyone were to receive a diary by fate, it probably would have been Harry Potter. 

As her thoughts raced by, leaving her barely unable to process some of them, the temptation to write grew stronger. Perhaps this could be her legacy. The owner was probably long gone anyway, and all the pages were blank. Besides, when she was gone, maybe someone would find this, and her memory could be preserved. 

Setting the book down, she quickly went to fetch some ink and a quill, flickers of adrenaline beginning to pulse in her heart. Yes, a diary would be a wonderful way to get past this year! It would be her secret, her confidante. Everyone needed someone to talk to, after all. Opening the book, and dipping the quill in ink, she began with the date. 

 

_ September 12th, 1992 _

 

She froze as she saw the words fade. Was it a concealment charm? To keep the diary entries protected? Warily, she pressed the quill to the paper again, and wrote a sentence- just to see what would occur. 

 

_ Hogwarts isn’t exactly what i had been expecting.  _

 

Again, the letters faded, and she was about to continue writing when a different handwriting began to appear on the worn pages. 

 

_ And what, may i ask, were you expecting?  _

 

Ginny’s breath caught, and her heart thudded inside her chest. This was the same handwriting of the name printed on the cover.  She took a deep breath as the handwriting faded, and wrote back her reply: 

 

_ I’m not entirely sure. My brothers made it seem like a fun place, but now that I’m here, I feel like I’m the only one who doesn’t see it that way.  _

 

She watched, curious, as the ink faded yet again, and the handwriting- Tom’s handwriting- became seen on the paper once more. 

 

_ How do you see it? _

 

The words were long faded as she thought of her response. Finally, she began writing again. 

_ It’s old. It’s mysterious, too, although i know i’m not ever going to find something important anytime soon.  _

 

Tom’s reply came almost instantly. 

 

_ What makes you so sure? _

 

Ginny ignored her shaking hands. She felt a twinge of something- guilt? Dread? Paranoia? She felt that something wasn’t quite right. She made a move to put away the diary, but her own mild annoyance stopping her. Well, Tom had asked why she was so sure, she’d be sure to answer. She tried to refrain from being to bitter in her words. It didn’t really work.

 

_ Because I’m the youngest of seven children, and before me there were hundreds of thousands of other students here. How can there possibly still be anything left unknown? _

 

It faded, and it took a moment for words to return. 

 

_Maybe they didn’t know where to look. Or maybe one of your brothers almost_ _found something, but left it for you to discover._

  
  


Ginny stared at these words, considering their plausibility. Percy wouldn’t have left to find  anything, anyway, so he was out of the question. Ron wasn’t the adventurous type, either. 

But Fred and George- 

She blinked as Tom wrote something else. 

 

_ May i have your name?  _

 

Almost immediately, she felt awful. She had been so enthralled by a talking diary she forgot to introduce herself! How rude of her! Quickly, she wrote down her name. 

 

_ Ginny Weasley. It’s my first year. I’m sorry if i intruded on your privacy by writing in your diary-  _

 

With a gasp, she saw Tom was already answering. 

 

_ No, little Ginny, you didn’t intrude. It was getting quite lonely without someone to talk to. _

  
  


Those were words that comforted her beyond anything, words that quieted her racing mind and heart, and she lowered her head as tears slid down her cheeks. A few drops fell on the pages, and the words  _ I’m here  _ became apparent. And that only made her cry more. 

  
That night, she slept with his diary under her pillow. 

  
  
  
  



	2. You're Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny is comforted by her diary when her loneliness grows stronger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, sorry, just was bored

 

Class was harder to focus on the next day. Everything was fine for Ginny, she was a natural daydreamer. She had Tom’s diary- she had already begun to think of it as  _ his  _ and not  _ hers-  _ by her, and when class had a few minutes to spare, she absentmindedly practiced her signature. Over and over she spelled her name  _ Ginevra Weasley.  _

She wasn’t expecting Tom’s elegant writing to appear. 

 

_ You have such a lovely name. Why do you go only by Ginny? _

 

She stared silently at the words, watching as they faded and biting her lip as she glanced around to make sure nobody saw. 

 

_ Ginevra is too much of a mouthful. It’s easier to say Ginny. Plus Fred and George say that it suits me better.  _

 

She shut the book before she could receive his response, moving quickly to her next class. She opened the book as soon as she had the chance, however, and began writing out an apology before Tom stopped her.

 

_ No need to apologize, you were working in class. I understand. I myself just finished Potions with Professor Slughorn. Ginevra, I was wondering- why do you let your brothers overshadow you? Do you not also count for someone? _

 

It was a good question, Ginny supposed, though a bit odd. Taking a deep breath, she began writing her answer. 

 

_ When you have as many older brothers as I do, Tom, it begins to feel like you’re not a person anymore. You’re just another name, nothing special. Nothing unique. My mum doesn’t know where I am half the time, even if I’m right in front of her. Dad’s off working for the Ministry, so he’s not really focused on anything when he gets home, and it’s mostly Muggle things he cares for, certainly not me. It’s always how perfect Percy is or how Fred and George got into trouble this time, or his new favorite, ‘Ron, how’s Harry?’ I don’t feel like I have a place with my family anymore. I’m all alone.  _

 

Ginny felt a small wave of relief that she finally had someone to tell this to. She wasn’t expecting Tom’s reply to be as revealing as it was. 

 

_ You’ll never be alone, Ginevra, as long as I’m alive. I promise you that. I understand how it feels, being alone. Your parents at least love you enough to keep you. My mother died when I was born, and my father abandoned me. I grew up in an orphanage. You’re lucky, Ginevra Weasley, to at least have a family who stays. Perhaps this isn't comforting, but I know how you feel, and you’ll never be alone again.  _

 

She kept repeating that in her mind.  _ You’ll never be alone. I promise. As long as I’m alive… _

 

Vaguely, she wondered if Tom was alive right now as well, so many years later. And if he remembered her, or if she was just another forgotten name in another person's memory.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short and sweet chapter, i'm on vacation so yeah fun days

Conversations between them progressed, in the vaguest sense of the word. Ginny very quickly found the advantage of having an upperclassman friend in a school that taught the same materials decades in a row. 

Her worst subject was, unsurprisingly, Potions. She was  _ awful  _ at it. 

“ _ Concentrate,  _ Miss Weasley, though it may be difficult considering your scatterbrained tendencies. Even someone as pathetically lacking in the brains department as you could answer this question.” Professor Snape drawled, his dark cloak swishing back and forth as he paced in front of her. 

“What is something you absolutely  _ mustn’t  _ do in the process of making the Boil Cure?”

Ginny stared at him, her hesitation proving she didn’t know. Snape  _ tsked _ distastefully, walking away as he snapped back at the class. 

“Can  _ anyone  _ in this godforsaken classroom of idiots make up for Miss Weasley’s incompetence? Thompson, you. What is something you absolutely mustn’t do in the process of making the Boil Cure?” 

“Add the porcupine needles before taking the cauldron off the heat, Professor.”

“Acceptable answer. Five points to Slytherin. Can anyone else tell me what would happen if I did that?”

Ginny snapped her head up- she remembered this one! Ron told her this story last year! Poor Neville Longbottom…Ginny raised her hand, though Snape’s back was to her and thus did not notice. 

“The cauldron will melt, Professor!” She gasped, bursting with impatience, “It causes the brewer to get covered in boils, and it will smell terrible while it does so-”

“Ten points from Gryffindor for yelling, interrupting, and speaking without permission, Miss Weasley. Your incompetence was already proven earlier, it does not need to be reinstated.. However-” Snape shifted his attention back to the class, “Miss Weasley stumbled across the correct answer. Make sure your cauldrons are  _ off  _ the flame before you add the porcupine quills…”

Lowering her hand slowly, Ginny fell quiet. Others in her house cast her a look- ten points taken from their house during the first weeks of school. 

As she left class, she went to hide in the bathroom so nobody saw her tears. Shaking, she began writing in the diary. 

_ Dear Tom,  _ was all she could write, with hands trembling wild. She lowered her head as a few drops of water spilled on the paper. They, too, faded with the ink.

 

_ Dear Ginerva, are you crying?   _ His words appeared on the paper, and she could barely read them. Forgetting he was a diary, and not a person, she nodded- causing more tears to fall on the paper. 

 

_ Ginerva, what ails you? Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?  _

 

Ginny read it, but didn’t answer. 

 

_ Ginerva, are you still here?  _

 

Ginny still couldn’t bring herself to write. She set down her quill and stared at Tom’s words. What would happen when he discovered how stupid she was? Would he still call her his friend? Did he even see her as a friend, or just another burden, like her brothers sometimes did? 

Tom began writing again. 

 

_ Your tears of that of doubt,  _ he wrote,  _ I can feel your pain in them. The second guessing, the questioning of if you’re good enough, wondering if you can possibly be seen without being compared or judged for who you are. Is that how you feel? _

 

“Yes, Tom,” she whispered, before rubbing her eyes and writing the word  _ yes  _ on the paper. 

 

_ Try not to worry about them, dear Ginerva. You are special. And others are blind to seeing how important you are. They live in ignorance, all of them. They don’t know, and it’s their own fault they don’t know, because they won’t wake up from their silly little lives to acknowledge anyone but themselves. I see it in my classes as well. Ginerva, you’re more important than you know. You’ll do great things, serve a great purpose.  _

_ Trust me.  _

 

Ginny wiped her eyes again and smiled. 

 

_ Thank you, Tom. You’re the only one here who I can talk to. _

She never received an answer, but felt reassured. 

  
She didn’t write in the diary for the rest of the day.


	4. Foolish Whispers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny, obsessing over her crush Harry Potter, explains to Tom just what makes him so special. 
> 
> (AKA Ginny accidentally and unwittingly telling Voldemort that he does become powerful, but is stopped by her crush. As a baby.)  
> (ENJOY)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so proofreading last chapter apparently i spelled "Ginevra" as "Ginerva" and all i can do is just be disappointed as i realize that's probably another reason she doesn't go by her full name.   
> I'm sorry but ya lol

 

As much as she hated it, school became extremely busy, and she rarely had time to talk to Tom during the day. At night, however, she would pour out her secrets, the day’s stress, and, almost always, some mention of Harry Potter. She was just writing about how nice of a boy he is (for the 100th time in three days) when Tom interrupted her with a question. 

 

_ This Harry Potter boy you fancy so much. All you say is that he’s perfect and wonderful and how nearly everyone loves him and over a hundred different words that all mean the same thing-  _

 

Was that bitterness in his writing? 

 

Ginny blinked as she remembered that Tom wasn’t  _ from  _ her time. He didn’t know the miracle of the Boy Who Lived- he didn’t know about You Know Who! 

The thought scared her, but with it came a desire to warn him. If she could warn him now about You Know Who, maybe he could be spared getting attacked in later years. 

And of course, in her warning, she could elaborate about Harry Potter. 

Beginning to scribble her answer furiously, she recited to Tom the story everyone in the Wizarding world knew. 

 

_ Harry Potter IS famous, Tom. He was the only survivor of He Who Mustn’t Be Named. It’s a miracle he’s even alive, and yet, he is. He’s the Boy Who Lived, and he’s at MY school! With ME! And he’s best friends with my brother, so i get to see him all the time- _

 

Tom’s writing bled through, cutting her off yet again. 

 

_ “He Who Mustn’t Be Named?” Who is that?  _

 

Ginny was quickly brought back to her original goal. Warning him! Curse her stupid crush and, in Snape’s words, ‘scatterbrained tendencies’... Shaking her head, she began writing again, trying to give herself as much courage as possible. Her hands shook and she felt the air chill as she wrote the name  _ Voldemort  _ on the paper. As it faded, she quickly continued. 

 

_ Don’t ask me to say his name again, Tom, it’s cursed. He’s cruel, and I don’t know if he’s alive in your time or not. But he’s killed so many innocent people- Harry’s family, too. He was going to kill Harry when something happened, and it made him lose his power. But last year he just came back, and Harry almost died again, and same with Ron and their friend Hermione. Tom, if i’m being honest, i’m scared he’ll come back and hurt my family.. _ _   
_

Her hand still shook, making the inked words have a strange wave to them, as Tom’s answer surfaced. 

 

_ No, that won’t happen, dear Ginevra. This Harry seems very lucky indeed to have defeated someone as powerful as whom you’ve described. And with him there, I’m sure no harm will come to you or your family. If he beat him, what, twice now? Then I don’t see the odds of him coming back a third. You’re safe, I can almost promise you.  _

 

Ginny stared as the words faded, sighing as she pulled back hair from her face. He didn’t understand this part. He didn’t understand that You Know Who would never rest until probably everyone was dead or evil, or both. 

So, she softly wrote a _Goodnight, Tom,_ and smiled at the _Have beautiful dreams_ Tom wrote back. He was such a formal boy, she wished she knew what year it was for him. Then she could maybe try finding out when He Who Shall Not Be Named came, and hopefully stop her friend from getting hurt.   
But if this was just an echo of the past,  she thought sadly as she closed his book, then there would be nothing she could do. 


	5. Hiatus

hi guys its me i'm having a serious case of writers block for this fic so its going on a small hiatus i love you all dearly and i'll be starting a new work soon i just need to get motivated for this one


	6. The Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to get fucked up here guys halla

That night, she had her first nightmare at Hogwarts. She had had nightmares before, of course, everyone did, but this one felt important. She woke up in a cold sweat, filled with panic as she struggled to grasp herself back in reality. She stared at the velvet red canopy above her and focused on her shaking breathing, as flashes of a dark hallway swam back and forth across her mind. 

She didn’t go back to sleep, and by the time classes came around, she was visibly exhausted. Professor McGonagall called her to her desk at the end of class, with concern in her eyes. 

“Miss Weasley, are you feeling alright? You’re looking quite ill.” She set down her quill, looking at the perturbed ginger. Ginny couldn’t look her in the eyes, choosing instead to focus on the floor. 

“I miss home.” The lie slipped from her lips with the grace of water, but it burned a hole in her stomach. Still, words tumbled out of her, words that were soft and quiet with resigned truth but made her sicker with every syllable. 

“Hogwarts is huge, Professor, and it helps that my brothers are here, but I’ve never been away from my parents for so long.” Tears stung her eyes, and she wiped them as she kept her focus on the floor. Technically, this wasn’t a lie, but it felt like one. It  _ was  _ one, in her mind, because it wasn’t what was really bothering her. She wasn’t even sure if what was bothering her was supposed to irk her as much as it did. She just listened to herself lie, as if she had done it a hundred times before. 

“Nothing’s really wrong,” she heard herself say softly, “I’m just still getting used to this.” She glanced up to see McGonagall nodding slightly in understanding. 

“I’ll write to your parents, Ginny. This is common for first years, don’t worry. If you need anything, anything at all, you know where to find me. Now get to your next class, I’ll write you a note explaining why you’re late.”

Ginny nodded, her heart racing and lodged in her throat. She took the note, and hurried to her next class, but was still five minutes late. 

“Sit down, Miss Weasley, and try not to disrupt the class as you do so.” Snape called from the board. 

“We’re on page 423 of your textbooks, so please try to catch up.”

Ginny flipped through her textbook, settling down silently as she tried to process what had just happened.

She had lied, to the head of her House. She had lied, simply because she couldn’t say ‘I had a nightmare last night, and couldn’t go back to sleep.’ 

Acid scorched her throat. She was going to be ill, if she didn’t calm down. 

At the end of classes, she didn’t eat dinner- she went straight to bed, and the dream from last night finally crept in to haunt her. 

 

 

 

_ The dark hallways lay in front of her, all of which holding a foreboding feeling. She’s running from something, but doesn’t know what- only that if it gets her, she’s dead.  _

_ She’s lost, now, looking down each hallway. She turns around to see a young teen smiling at her. In a way, he reminds her of Harry- but he’s nothing like this. The boy is wearing a green tie- Slytherin. What is she doing down here with a Slytherin?  _

_ “Ginevra.” He says, brushing some hair from her face. She flinches, fear suffocating her. She feels weak, his touch making her somehow even more afraid. She knows who this is- there’s only one who calls her Ginevra.  _

_ “Tom.” Her voice quivers, and she falls to the floor. Except, there is no floor, and she falls and falls and falls, forever and ever, until she’s going to hit the ground- _

 

 

 

Ginny woke up in the halls, and it took her several moments to understand how she got there.

She simply didn’t know; there was nothing to tell her. Her hands were covered in blood, and she felt violently ill just looking at them. Her hands. Why were her hands bloodied? Did she- 

Was this real?


	7. When Things Go Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lol guys I figured it a good time to pick up the fucked up ship  
> After all this is tom

  
  


**Chapter 6**

 

She was wrenched from the halls, the Gryffindor common room replacing the blood and the chatter of students filling what was deafening silence. 

She clutched the sheets, staring out at her now clean hands. There was chatter everywhere, words drilling into her mind. 

“-found him with the cat-”

“-just  _ hanging  _ there, petrified!”

“-saying he’s the Heir-” 

Ginny slowly got out of bed, looking at them. 

“What happened?” she asked, curious. She tried to mask her shaking tone. A first year she knew, Lori Taylor, looked at her stunned. 

“You weren’t there? Oh, you must have been sleeping. Last night, everyone saw Harry Potter with the petrified corpse of Mrs. Norris!”   
“He-  _ what?”  _ Ginny stared, stunned. Harry couldn’t have done that. He couldn’t have. 

“Oh, yes,” said Lori, nodding, “And now everyone’s saying he might be the Heir of Slytherin.”

“....What?” 

“Oh,  _ come on  _ Ginny, you know this! It’s the biggest rumor around Hogwarts!” 

“I...I do, sorry. I forgot for a moment, I was tired.” Ginny lied again, and she immediately felt sick. 

“Come on!” Lori rushed off, “We’re going to be late for class!”

All day, Ginny stayed in a haze. Her nightmare played on a loop. What did it mean? Tom? Hurting her? He’d only ever been nice to her. He wouldn’t do that. And Harry, how could he have killed Mrs. Norris? Nobody liked Filch, to be sure, but his cat? What was going on? 

Part of her wanted to ask Tom, and when she opened the journal, words were already there. 

_ I hope you’re not avoiding me, Ginevra. I didn’t mean to have somehow offended you.  _

 

She sighed, writing her response _.  _

 

_ Things are going crazy, here, Tom. They say Harry petrified Mrs. Norris, they're going on about some heir of Slytherin, and  _

 

She paused. 

Should she really tell him her nightmare? What if he said she was crazy, and left her forever? 

In the end, she settled for a paraphrased truth. 

 

_ And i haven't slept well for days. I'm scared, Tom, more than ever.  _

 

As she watched the words fade, the nausea swirling in the pit of her stomach grew. It was guilt, for sure, but also fear. She knew she had many things to fear, but still something nagged at her. There was fear for Hogwarts, to be sure, but also _...dread.  _

Her nightmare stayed in her mind. Tom, his deathly cold hands seeming to take the life from her. How as soon as she said his name, reality fell apart. And the bloodied hands, had that been real? Clearly not, but it felt as real as the brush of the paper underneath her waiting fingers. 

Was time frozen, or was Tom taking longer than usual to respond?

 

_ Maybe he has classes,  _ a voice in her head whispered. The selfish one responded back almost immediately _.  _

_ Then why did he have time to write in the first place?  _

_ You're used to being ignored anyway,  _ the first countered, and Ginny felt her heart sink at the words. 

Nightmares or not, Tom was the closest friend she had, and he was the only one who truly noticed her. Who saw her as more than just another Weasley. 

 

After several more seconds continued to crawl by, Tom's words appeared on the paper. By then, Ginny was clutching the book in an anxious grip.

 

_ Harry didn't do that to the cat, dear Ginevra. He couldn't have. Only the heir of Slytherin could unleash what did that, and Harry does not seem to be powerful enough to do so.  _

 

Ginny wiped her eyes, her hand flying to the quill as she scribbled back her answer. 

 

_ Who did it? Do you know?  _

 

The words faded from inky black to the yellowed pages of the journal. Tom's next words chilled her to the core. 

 

_ Maybe it was Voldemort. _

 

_ **** _

 

Ginny lay in bed that night, terrified to go to sleep. Tom's words rang in her head _.  _

_ Maybe it was-  _

She drove herself away from the name. 

How? How could he just say it so easily? Was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named not around in his time? 

That must be it, she settled, he just didn't know the power of the name. Oh, how she hoped when You-Know-Who did snap and go on his dark rampaging, Tom would be safe. 

She stared up at the red velvet canopy, swallowing her fear. 

She needed  to get to sleep. 

At least then she wouldn't have to lie to McGonagall. 

She closed her eyes, and the dark halls were waiting for her. 

 

_ ** _

 

_ "Ginevra." His voice behind her was cold, sending shivers down her spine as she was rendered paralyzed.  _

_ "You can't avoid me, Ginevra." He went closer, brushing her hair to the side so her neck was exposed. Ginny was frozen, and so, so tired. She just wanted to sleep.  _

_ She felt his cool lips brush the bone on her neck, and her legs threatened to fail her.  _

_ This time, when she fell, he caught her. His cold embrace only made her shiver more.  _

_ He ran his hands through her hair.  _

_ "It's too late," he murmured.  _

_ "Our souls are connected." _

 

The floor disappeared again, and Ginny awoke in a cold sweat in the common rooms.


	8. That Escalated Quickly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny's nightmares worsen and things take a turn for the worst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I went on writers block and eventually decided that Tom needs to be creepier because this IS a dark ship fic

 

It took her quite some time to get her breath back. And when she did, and the effects of the nightmare truly took hold, she rolled onto her side and shut her eyes tightly. The tears burned her eyelids, and she bit back a sob. 

_ You asked for this,  _ part of her screamed.  _ You wanted something special to happen to you, something that hadn’t happened to any of your brothers. Something to set you apart. How can you be crying?  _

_ I didn’t want  _ this, the other half sobbed.  _ I didn’t want nightmares. I didn’t want to be scared of a friend. I just wanted to be different.  _

_ You’re just selfish.  _ The first snarled.  _ You whine and you beg, like a little dog, and when you get what you asked for you want something else. You’re already different, foolish girl, because you’re the girl of the family.  _

_ I didn’t want this,  _ she kept repeating to herself.  _ Not this. Anything but this fear. Please.  _

A cold air kissed her temple, and she froze, remembering the touch in the dream. She kept repeating  _ it wasn’t real  _ over and over. Tried counting to ten, tried to breathe. Nothing worked. 

When it finally came time for breakfast, she barely had the appetite to eat. Seeing and smelling the food only made her feel worse, and class did very little to distract her. When it was finally over, she didn’t even look at the diary, and went straight to bed. She hoped she wouldn’t have nightmares- she just needed some sleep… 

 

***

 

_ “Ginevra.” she heard again, Tom standing in front of her, and she nearly cried out in anguish. Why couldn’t he leave her alone?  _

_ “Are you scared of me?” he continued, brushing some hair from her face. There was a calm deadliness in his eyes, the dark irises watching her with such intensity it made her shudder. His hand lingered on her cheek. It was so cold…  _

_ “Are you?” he pressed, and she could only weakly nod. She couldn’t shut her eyes, couldn’t block out his pressing stare.  _

_ “Say it.” His voice stayed the same, but it held a new layer of emotion to it, one she couldn’t place. It wavered between sadness and anger.  _

_ She found her voice, and it echoed in a pitiful ring in the dungeons.  _

_ “I’m scared, Tom. I’m terrified…”  _

_ “Of me?” He trailed his knuckles gently down the side of her face.  _

_ “Yes.” she whispered, shivering. The cold seeped into her bones, drained her to the point of exhaustion. “Please, Tom, stop…”  _

_ A smirk crossed his features, one that twisted his beautiful face into a grimace.  _

_ “No, darling Ginevra, I won’t. You’re special. I won’t leave you.”   _

_ She shivered, tears on her cheeks. Stepping closer, he wiped them away, tilting her head up to look at him.  _

_ “You’re mine.” he whispered, running his hand through her hair as the other clutched her jaw.  _

_ “Don’t you trust me?” _

_ “No.” she whimpered, trying to pull away. His grip held fast. “No, I don’t, not anymore. This- This isn’t funny, Tom-” _

_ He pulled her close, his lips suddenly clashing into hers. She froze, unsure of what to do, her heart lodged in her throat and beating so fast, so fast. His touch was so cold. She cried out after a few moments, when it started to burn her. When he pulled away, he ran his thumb over her lips, a dark smirk on his face.  _

_ “You can’t hide.” He whispered. “I’ll always be with you. You’re never alone.”  _

 

She woke up shivering. She looked at the book at the table, and didn’t know what possessed her to do it, but reached for a quill. 

 

_ Tom.  _ her handwriting was shaky. 

 

_ Are you alright, Ginevra?  _

 

The memory of the dream burned into her, and she started softly crying. 

 

_ The nightmares won’t go away. They’re all about you. Why are they all about you? Why?  _

 

As the words faded, and the minutes passed, she waited and waited for an answer. None came, and as time crept on so did the growing panic that she was alone. 

_ Alone.  _

_ Never alone.  _

She hugged the book to her chest, wanting her friend back. She shivered.  _ Why was it still so cold?  _

She willed herself out of bed, even though it was still after curfew. She crept to the door, softly walking down the hallways as she made her way to Madame Pomfrey’s. 

She was shocked to see the small girl, especially with the wild look in her eyes, but ushered her in. 

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, worried. Ginny looked at her, shaking. She couldn’t tell her about the details of the nightmares. She couldn’t. Something held her back. 

“Nightmares,” she whispered. “I haven’t slept in a week…”

Madame Pomfrey tsked, sitting her down on the bed. She rushed off, leaving Ginny to her thoughts. 

Which, after five minutes, went to a rather dark place indeed. The fear turned to a quiet anger. 

He was  _ messing  _ with her. He  _ wanted  _ to see her afraid. 

Which meant if she wasn’t, he’d leave her alone. She just had to stay strong. Who did he think he was, taking her sleep, making her afraid of everything? After all, it was only a dream, and she was getting rather sick of this ‘game’ he was playing. 

When Madame Pomfrey returned to the girl, she hesitated, as the wild look she had when she had come in had shifted to a wild  _ fire  _ in her eyes. 

“Here.” She handed her a potion. “Take this, it should help quiet your mind.”

Ginny took it, and, looking directly at Madame Pomfrey, drank it in one sip. 

As darkness enveloped her, she knew she’d be ready. She just had to stay strong. 

****

 

_ “Back so soon?” His voice taunted, and she turned around to face him. The fear was back, but she swallowed it down.  _

_ “I’m not afraid of you.” She managed, staring in his eyes. He raised his brow, an amused half-smirk appearing.  _

_ “Oh? You just said you were…” he went to her, his thumbs brushing the circles under her eyes.  _

_ “What could have changed that, I wonder?”  _

_ “Because you’re a bully. You’re a bully, and you’re not my Tom!”  _

“Your  _ Tom?” He chuckled. “Last I remembered, Ginevra,  _ you  _ belonged to  _ me.” 

_ “I’m not yours.” she whispered. “I’m not yours.” The air was trapped in her lungs, and she loathe to admit that she was still afraid. She was afraid, but angry. _

_ “You need me.” He whispered, pulling away. “Without me, you’d be alone. I’m the only one who understands you.” _

_ “Are you?” she snapped. He grabbed her wrist and twisted it sharply, a loud snap reverberating through the darkness. Ginny screamed, and he pulled her into a tight embrace.  _

_ She started sobbing, and he stroked her hair with a gingerness that made bile rise up in her throat.  _

_ “I understand you perfectly.” He mused. “You’re jealous of your brothers. You’re lost, afraid, depressed… you think you’re alone. Because nobody would think to look at another redhead. You want something new, something that everyone knows  _ you  _ did. You told me that yourself.”  _

_ “I didn’t mean it like this,” she sobbed, pain flashing through her wrist in hot and cold waves.  _

_ “No? Then what did you mean it by?” _

_ “I…” she hiccuped, and he held her closer. She was so, so cold, so cold he was starting to get warmer.  _

_ “I don’t know. Not this…” she whispered, and he sighed. He twirled a lock of hair between his fingers, silent for some moments.  _

_ “You gave your heart to me.” He said eventually. “I know you. I know what you want. I know who lies underneath that innocent little mask.” He shoved her away, gripping her wrist. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out.  _

_ “You’re mine, Ginevra. You’ve been mine since you wrote the first date in my diary.” _


End file.
